Lingering, Lies

This was your season

now I’m counting by hundreds

yet I pretend I’m unaware these days

Still, here you linger, a dream ear whisperer

though this wildly wound up soul

is by myself, if the truth be told

 

Long enough since I laid to rest

Harshest winds already had their best

And you know, most of the time

even sweet night tells me I’m more than fine

The lost and forgotten—

how could they even touch on

waves where I’m feeling

still somewhere among the heights of my being?

 

This was your season

now I’m counting by hourly heart rate

Your old soul lingers

as if your boughs…

not once around me did break

 

Yet I pretend I cannot see you

for this heart’s too old for that

impossible to hold you close with virtue

Here where I depart

why would I feel ghost hands linger?

 

Carrie Gilbert 2017

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